


Like the Jabberjays of Old

by The_Winter_Straw



Series: Free Fic Raffle Prizes [7]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person, Reader replaces Clove, Reader-Insert, Scene Rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Winter_Straw/pseuds/The_Winter_Straw
Summary: The first night in the Arena brings Katniss more than one revelation.
Relationships: Cato (Hunger Games)/Reader
Series: Free Fic Raffle Prizes [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687426
Kudos: 31





	Like the Jabberjays of Old

**Author's Note:**

> And we move from a fairly open request to a pretty specific one. I was offered two choices for this month, this story or a Draco/Reader. I decided I was tired of writing woobie!Draco. Thus, I went with this despite my unfamiliarity with the story. I did read the entire trilogy back in 2012...but I had to reread the first book since the person not only wanted a specific scene rewritten (that turned out to be a movie-exclusive scene anyway) but Katniss as the narrator. I don't typically rewrite scenes or replace characters because I find that to be very boring, but, hey. They won the raffle. Since then, I've also found out that this is apparently far more accepted in _Hunger Games_ works anyway.
> 
> I did make the decision to not do it from first person POV, though. I thought combining that with a reader-insert might be a little _too_ much.
> 
> Winner March 2020: Lyrα/lovingdreams

Katniss Everdeen had a lot to think about her first night in the Arena: the bloodbath at the cornucopia, Peeta's location, disobeying Haymitch's orders right out of the gate, how to find water now she'd left the lake behind. Her willow tree felt as safe a place as any available to muse over these matters. Those first minutes after the Panem anthem faded from the wide, dark sky were the first opportunity to think that she'd really had since the opening of the Hunger Games. Some part of her thought—despite not sleeping for nearly two whole days and mostly dehydrating herself already—she would take ages to fall asleep. Instead her eyes closed at once, leaving her with only one thought as she fell from consciousness: 

_Good thing I don't snore._

Ridiculous. But at least with many of the remaining competitors a day or so behind her, there would be nothing else too pressing to concern her until morning came. This _should_ have been true. Whoever said anything about the Hunger Games was fair? She felt as though she'd barely had a minute of sleep before _someone_ cracked a path beneath her tree. A Career? Foxface? Surely not Rue. Katniss couldn't see whoever it was, couldn't dare move from her dearly bought sleeping bag. All she knew was that the idiot had built a fire—and that many things happened in quick succession after that. 

The fire drew in the Careers. The Careers had Peeta. And if Katniss so much as breathed too heavily, she was going to end up like that fire starter: dead before the sun could rise on the Arena for the very first time. A trio of those Careers gathered just below her tree after all was said and done. 

"Hey, lover boy," said a boy. The one from District 2, Katniss thought. The brute. She did not have a good angle with which to see his face to confirm her suspicions. "You sure she went this way?" 

Peeta answered at once: "Yeah, I'm sure. That was a trap of hers back there." 

"You better be sure. Go on ahead. Use the signal if you spot anything." 

Peeta, grim faced in a way Katniss had never seen before, nodded before he slipped into the deeper darkness of the trees. She could not breathe freely, though. Not yet, because the other two, the tops of whose heads she recognized as both Tributes from District 2, had remained behind. Did they know she hid above them? Had they only sent Peeta away because they doubted his loyalty? As well they should have. One of her hands crept silently toward her waiting knife. It would not be of much use to her in close quarters, strapped to tree as she was, but she would not go down without a fight. 

"[Name]." 

Katniss blinked. Neither of the Careers seemed to be searching for her at all. After both moved a little past her tree, she was able to see their faces a little better. You, the female Tribute, had such a distant look on your face that she wondered if you were looking at anything nearby at all. The boy spoke your name again, one of the silly ones so common in the upper Districts. That didn't rouse you either. In what looked to her like desperation, he put a hand on your shoulder—only for you to spring to life at once in an action that ended with your twisting his arm behind him while you pressed a boot to his back. 

"[Name]!" This time he cried out in pain...though not loudly enough to attract anyone else's attention. 

"Cato? Oh my gosh, Cato! I'm so sorry—I didn't know what I was doing." 

You released him at once. He hissed a little as he straightened, rubbing at the spot on his arm that you grabbed. His lips puckered. To Katniss' surprise, however, he did not strike you in turn as she expected. Cato took a deep breath before he put a hand under your chin. 

"I need you to stay with me [Name]," he said. 

"I know. I'm here." Your thin, wispy tone didn't sound like it to _Katniss_. 

Cato didn't seem convinced either. He let you go to cross his thick arms over his barrel-like chest. "You weren't for a few minutes there." 

"It won't happen again." 

"It shouldn't have happened at all. What's gotten into you?" 

Your eyes glimmered in the faint light coming from the moon mostly hidden by tree branches. Those eyes looked to Katniss to be searching your companion's face, but for what, she couldn't begin to guess. For a long time, neither of you said anything. Then Cato let out a long sigh and allowed himself to unwind. 

"I sent that guy ahead for a reason. Just—tell me what's bothering you," he said. "So I can expected it next time." 

Apparently the _illusion_ of thinking you and Cato were alone was enough for you. Sure, you had no reason to expect _Katniss_ to be listening in, but had you forgotten about the cameras? The people in the Capitol that wanted _you_ dead just as much as anyone else? The trainers and sponsors relying on you to keep up a brave face? She thought so, because you seemed to melt the minute Cato gave you permission. 

"It's just—the way she begged," you breathed. 

"The way she—[Name], you _trained_ for this. We both did!" 

"I _know_. But not on _people_ , Cato. Nothing in our training ever _screamed_." 

High up in her tree, Katniss marveled. She'd never heard of a Career with doubts before. Or was it all an act? If it wasn't, no way would this private moment get televised. If it did, you'd be sunk. No one was going to be sponsor a girl who couldn't bear to murder the others. You wouldn't have a chance in hell of winning with an attitude like that. 

"Well, you better get over it," Cato said. "Fast." 

She caught your head move in a nod. He nodded in return before motioning toward the path Peeta had taken deeper into the woods. 

"We better catch up him. Tributes like him need to stay on a tight leash." 

Katniss prepared to let out a sigh of relief as the enormous boy took his leave. She had no doubt that you'd hate to linger there without him. Unfortunately, just as she thought she had made it through the conversation without being spotted, you launched yourself forward and grabbed a fistful of the back of Cato's shirt. He came to a stop at once. 

This time, this time _surely_ he would strike you. His back straightened, making him look even bigger than before. He looked up toward the sky...and stayed that way, motionless. 

"What is it?" he said in a surprisingly soft tone. 

"What if that happens to _me_? What if I—" 

"You'd never be stupid enough to light a fire like that." 

"Something else, then. But what if someone comes on me like that? What if I beg for my life? Cato...Cato I'm _scared_." 

Another long pause. Drifting through the air on the bitter wind, Katniss could have sworn she heard _sobbing_. Nothing loud, of course, but after her own desperate attempts to ensure that no one in Panem saw her emote at all, she was startled to find that someone who had apparently spent her life _dreaming_ of coming to these games could so openly weep. What must your mentors in the viewing room think of such a display? Unless, of course, there was something more _interesting_ going on somewhere else—but she thought much of the first day's entertainment had already drawn to a close. 

"Hey. Hey. None of that." While Katniss had been busy musing over your performance, Cato had turned around and wrapped you in his arms. He was not _hurting_ you though. He actually appeared to be _comforting_ you, a suspicion confirmed when he went on to say, "We're going to get through this, all right? You just stick with me." 

"But—" 

He shifted to place his hands on your shoulders. "You stick with me. Anything else like tonight happens, I'll take care of it. I'll take care of _you_. That's why I volunteered. That other guy wasn't going to—well, anyway. I'm going to protect you in here, [Name]. No matter what." 

Well, that was an awfully stupid thing to promise, thought Katniss. Almost as stupid as the fire that you both seemed to realize was stupid only a few minutes ago. _No matter what_? Most of the final tributes wound up being from the first few districts. She didn't think you'd be giving Cato the same moon eyes when he was coming at _you_ with that spear. 

"But Cato, what about when there's only the two of us left?" you whispered. 

"You let me handle that." 

No opportunity to argue was offered to you. Cato kissed you then, one swift kiss to the lips that looked more like a near-headbutt to the girl watching in the tree. Not that it seemed to matter to _you_. 

"I love you, Cato." 

"Sure. Just don't let Lover Boy hear you talking like that." 

You followed him out of Katniss' line of sight with something of a _skip_ to your step. Certainly you didn't look so hollow or distant _now_. Could one little kiss _really_ do that much to help someone? She wouldn't know. She'd never kissed anyone—though she thought then that Haymitch wouldn't have minded if she kissed Peeta instead of running off for that backpack. But no. Her heat-reflective sleeping bag was absolutely more of a necessity than frivolities like kissing. Kissing wasn't going to keep _you_ warm that night, and it didn't sound like Cato was going to let you sleep in his arms either. 

Katniss did another sweep of the dark ground beneath her, straining her ears for the sound of your return, or Cato's, or Peeta's. None came. Only once she was certain that no one's footsteps were headed her way did she return to her previous occupation of trying to sleep. One more ludicrous thought occurred to her before dreams swept over her for the second time: if that conversation had not been for _her_ benefit, whose had it been for? Maybe it wasn't just her and Peeta playing up the "star-crossed lovers" bit in the Arena after all.


End file.
